Hunting Abigail: Fight or Flight? For Abigail, it's both!

by Jeremy Costello

  ‘My God,’ Abbey murmured.

  ‘Graham had finally cracked. Eric would never become the man Graham wanted him to be, the man he never was, and he couldn’t handle it. As unpredictable as Graham had become, never in my wildest dreams did I think he could raise a hand to his son. Eric never thought about much else again after that day.’

  A respectful silence hung in the air.

  ‘Eric was hospitalized,’ Elaine went on. ‘Repeated blunt-force trauma to the head. He was unconscious for four days. When he woke up…well, you see the result. Eric is a seven or eight year old boy trapped in the body of a forty-six year old man.’

  ‘What became of Graham?’

  ‘Sentenced to three years for ABH and assault. We never saw him again. The second he was behind bars we moved to Auckland discreetly. Eric still asks now where his dad is. He has no memory of the attack, and I pray to God every day for that small mercy.’

  In the awkward silence, Abbey uttered, ‘I’m so sorry, Elaine.’

  ‘It could have been worse, darl,’ she said smiling weakly. ‘Eric is alive and I still have my boy. We are truly blessed. Of all the times God has looked out for us, I don’t find it surprising we survived the crash. It was simply another miracle granted to us, God correcting wrongs done.’

  ‘I don’t mean to sound insensitive,’ James cut in, ‘but we’ve deviated. You were telling us about Teri.’

  Elaine lowered her voice further. ‘Eric told me something. And now I know it’s not just one of his stories, he’s telling the truth.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I just do,’ she insisted. ‘Mother’s intuition. Eric believes he saw somebody at the airport wearing handcuffs.’

  Abbey stiffened. ‘He was trying to tell me something too, back in the terminal. He said he’d seen beneath the man’s jacket. I didn’t pay attention.’

  Elaine looked up. ‘Now he’s saying he saw the same man on the plane. He was with a second man, an escort of some kind.’

  ‘It’s possible, James mused. ‘A convict being transferred on a commercial jet to save taxpayer’s money.’

  Face tightening, Elaine leaned forwards. ‘An hour ago, Eric told me the cuffed man is here.’

  James massaged his temples. ‘And there’s the flaw. If the man was in cuffs, he still would be. How would he get them off?’

  ‘I’m one-hundred percent about this, James,’ she defended. ‘Whoever was wearing those handcuffs is one of the remaining ten.’

  ‘Have you not asked your son who he saw?’ Abbey asked.

  Elaine nodded. ‘He won’t tell me. But I’m working on it.’

  46

  The scream pierced the night and jolted Abbey awake. The girl lay beside her, snoring softly. Had she imagined it, she wondered? Had she dreamt it? Tentatively she lay back down and closed her eyes.

  The second scream was louder, a shrill and desolate note. Poking her head from the tent, she scanned the beach. Not a soul in sight. Furtively she moved from tent to tent, certain the scream had come from further afield. Already missing were Teri and Sol, and now the tent shared by Sebastian and Oli stood vacant too, the blankets drawn. She found James where she expected him to be, fast asleep on his front.

  Yelping, Abbey spun sharply as her shoulder was grabbed from behind. Inundated in the moon’s backdrop, Anthony stood before her, palms defensively forward. ‘It’s me!’

  ‘What do you think you're doing?’ she whispered. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’

  ‘You woke me when you invaded my privacy.’

  ‘Invaded your privacy?’ she whispered angrily. ‘I carted your unconscious arse halfway round the island earlier, how about a bit of gratitude?’

  Anthony turned away and scanned the trees. Any notion of his injury seemed to be forgotten.

  ‘Did you hear the screams?’ she asked.

  A single nod.

  ‘What do you suppose we should do?’

  Anthony began gliding silently towards the trees, his face unmarred by fascination or fear. Abbey nipped at his heels. ‘Maybe we should wake James.' When she received no answer, she said, ‘Do we have a torch?’

  ‘Leave it,’ Anthony instructed.

  In amongst the trees she could see only black. No sinister eyes shone back, but she struggled to shake the sensation of being watched. Going in there without a torch seemed like insanity.

  The first dabs of perspiration appeared on her brow as she stepped into the trees. She wiped them away. As her eyes adjusted, the terrain became more accessible. Outlines of trees presented themselves, and in patches the moonlight broke through their leafy ceiling showing them a path. They trod carefully in no particular direction.

  Shrieking through the trees, the fresh scream turned her blood to ice. Anthony glared at her, unsmiling, birthmark sitting ominously in shadow. ‘This way,’ he whispered.

  Following Anthony’s nose, the pair descended upon a small clearing blanched in moonlight. Grabbing her wrist he stopped her from going further, huddling down next to her by a series of misplaced boulders.

  ‘What is it?’ she uttered.

  He silenced her with a hand gesture and pointed across the clearing. Two unidentifiable people were out there, silhouettes against the moon’s backdrop. Though only a mere twenty yards across the clearing, it was obvious what was happening. One figure was kneeling before the other, breathing heavily, soft gurgling sounds caught in the throat. The second figure was pacing the ground deliberately, tauntingly.

  Abbey jumped as Anthony spoke, almost forgetting she wasn’t alone. ‘We should go,’ he whispered calmly.

  ‘I think that’s Elaine,’ Abbey murmured. ‘We can’t leave her.’

  ‘We should go,’ he insisted.

  ‘No!’ she said firmly. ‘We need to see this.’

  Falling silent, Anthony seemed to appease her and rested against the boulder. The pacing silhouette continued to bide his time until God only knew what, the kneeling figure shuddering groggily.

  ‘Seen enough?’ Anthony whispered.

  Abbey hauled herself up and edged around the boulder for a better angle. As she pushed from the rock a clatter of stones fell away, rolled along the side of the boulder and came to rest in the undergrowth. Anthony closed his eyes in resignation as the pacing silhouette’s glinting eyes snapping in their direction.

  She held her breath. The figure took a few paces their way, head cocked. Then he turned and walked steadily back to the kneeler.

  Abbey couldn’t have anticipated what came next; nothing on earth could’ve prepared her. Without hesitation the pacer drew a blade from somewhere, looked directly at the cluster of boulders, and jammed it into the kneeler’s throat, twisting. The churning gurgle carried across the clearing as the blade was withdrawn. The body crumpled to the floor.

  Abbey held a hand to her mouth, stifling the scream. She turned to find Anthony. He was gone.

  Back in the clearing the knife-wielding silhouette was walking towards her, dripping blade an extension of his arm. Unconcerned for Anthony, she turned and fled. Trees came at her, disappeared behind. Intact branches swung for her head, the fallen kind grabbing at her feet. Over her shoulder was forbidden territory. Only once did she tumble into the undergrowth, her left knee taking the brunt of the impact. Unhindered further, she crashed onto the beach by the plane’s nose, minutes from the camp. Staying by the water’s edge she sprinted across the sand, the dying embers of the campfire flickering a million miles away.

  Fifty yards from the camp.

  Forty.

  Startling her, Anthony pushed through the tree line unharmed. ‘Wait, Abbey,’ he grunted, catching her around the midriff. ‘It’s okay, it’s me…it’s Anthony.’

  For a moment she forgot where she was. Tugging at his shirt, she freed herself from his grasp and spun in the sand disorientated. Finally, she screamed.

  *

  ‘Abbey, I love my sleep, so for Christ’s sake tell me what’s happening!’

&nbs
p; Stepping in for the distraught Abbey, Anthony said clearly, ‘We don’t know what we saw.’

  ‘What!’ Abbey wheezed. ‘James, you need to listen to me, okay. Something is happening here. I don’t know what, but we’re in serious danger!’

  ‘It was dark,’ Anthony interrupted. ‘We could’ve seen anything.’

  Abbey’s face dropped. ‘What’re you saying? You were right there, you saw what I saw.’

  With the slightest movement of his head, Anthony picked out Eric who had joined the affray. James spotted the gesture. ‘I’m just saying, it was dark, our minds were probably playing tricks.’

  ‘I think what Anthony’s trying to say,’ James cut in, ‘is there’s probably a more appropriate time to discuss this.’

  ‘No…no!’ gasped Abbey, close to delirium. ‘We talk about this now. Everybody needs to hear this. You too Eric.’

  Unconvinced by his own judgement, James ceded. ‘Fine,’ he muttered. ‘Go ahead, tell us what happened.’

  Everybody was awake now, absorbing the remaining heat from the dying fire. The girl stared into the flames in nonchalance, Oli ghostly pale. The student looked sick.

  ‘I was woken by a scream,' Abbey mouthed, 'scared the shit out of me. When I checked the tents, a handful of people were missing.’

  ‘My mum’s not in our tent,’ said Eric, confused.

  ‘Anthony was awake too,’ she went on. ‘So we decided to take a look.’

  ‘I thought Anthony was injured,’ James observed.

  ‘Still am,’ the scarred man said.

  Turning back to Abbey, James said, ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

  ‘We don’t need you for everything,’ Anthony interrupted. ‘In fact we don’t need you at all.’

  James narrowed his eyes in confusion. ‘Someone better tell me what’s going on. Enough games.’

  ‘We…’ she paused, anxious expressions waiting eagerly.

  ‘Abbey?’

  ‘We saw somebody being murdered.’

  An ethereal quiet descended upon the camp.

  ‘You…you what?’

  Abbey reached for her grazed knee, brushed away the stubborn dirt.

  ‘You both saw this?’

  ‘He saw it too,’ she answered for Anthony.

  ‘Who?’ James asked incredulously. ‘Who did you see being murdered?’

  ‘It was too dark,’ she uttered. ‘But he knew we were there, James. He knew he was being watched. It was almost like he wanted us to see!’

  James planted himself down on the sand. He believed Abbey, no question. Was this the convict Elaine had told them about? Had she been punished for divulging? He glanced from frightened face to frightened face. More questions. No answers.

  Spying movement along the sand, unified heads turned to see Sol wandering shirtless into the camp. He stopped flat when he found the others still awake. James bore down on him as he walked amongst them. ‘Where’ve you been, Sol?’ he began coldly. ‘And no more of this “I like being alone” bullshit, that’s not good enough.’

  Away from the moonlight, he swore the Australian smirked. ‘That would be none of your fucking business, dude.’

  ‘Well let’s just say that the escalation of events has made it my business.’

  Sol ran a hand through his matted locks, fingers snagging in the knots. ‘You’re barking up the wrong piss-pole, people. Whatever’s going on here, you self-destructive freaks figure it out for yourselves. Leave me out of it.’

  ‘Mum?’ Eric called out suddenly, pathetically.

  ‘When I first saw you that morning, Sol, you were pilfering luggage. What were you looking for?’

  ‘I told you, man,’ he said defensively. ‘Just needed my stuff.’

  ‘That’s not going to cut it,’ Abbey growled. ‘You were searching for something specific.’

  ‘Go fuck yourself.’

  Without warning Anthony went for the Australian, wrestling him to the ground. Sol writhed beneath him, squirmed, cried out as a jab landed. Anthony was heavier, tougher, and he battered Sol mercilessly, emotionlessly. Nobody interjected.

  ‘You can make him stop, Sol,’ said James. ‘You can make this go away.’

  A sickening crack echoed along the bay as Sol took a flattened fist to the jaw.

  Abbey stepped in. ‘Isn’t this a little extreme?’

  The camp watched hypnotically as Anthony climbed to his feet and swung a vicious kick to the Australian’s ribs, another crack signifying a second breaking bone.

  ‘James!’ Abbey cried. ‘Stop this. Whoever’s out there, this is what he wants.’

  Sol rolled into a fetal shape, the sand absorbing his wracking sobs. ‘Okay!’ he screamed. ‘Stop, please. I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you!’

  Stepping back, Anthony gasped heavily and turned his back on the group. James watched him walk past Eric and disappear into the shadows along the bay.

  Holding his ribs, Sol climbed tentatively to his knees. ‘You guys are so fucking warped, do you even know who you are anymore?’

  James grabbed his hair and yanked. ‘Where do you go, Sol?’

  ‘I get high, okay!’

  James wasn’t sure he'd heard right. ‘High?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sol cried. ‘That’s it. Fuck, dude!’

  Releasing the man’s hair, he peered down wearily at the Australian.

  ‘Where do you get drugs out here?’ Abbey interrupted. ‘Unless…’

  Sol looked nervously from face to face.

  ‘You’re a smuggler,’ James confirmed.

  Massaging his tender jaw, Sol said, ‘Not quite. I mean I was smuggling, this time. But it was only a one-off.’

  ‘That’s why you were looking for your case.’

  ‘What were you smuggling,’ Abbey asked.

  Sol sniffled. ‘Just Class C's.’

  ‘Class C's?’

  ‘The chronic…weed, dude! Whacky baccy, skunk, resin, pot, draw, marijuana. Look, I’m a dealer back home, okay. A couple of months ago, a friend of mine comes to me with a proposition. He knows some guy in Durban with this real killer stuff, but it’s only a one time offer. All I’ve to do is get from South Africa to Australia. I got the stuff dirt cheap, no way I could’ve passed it up!’

  ‘Great,’ she murmured. ‘A scumbag drug dealer.’

  ‘Not at all, what do you take me for? I sell to my mates and surfers on Bell’s Beach, and never anything harder than weed.’

  ‘Oh, you're a regular saint.’

  ‘You arseholes can scoff all you like, but that’s all I’ve been doing, smoking my own product. It takes the edge off. You don’t believe me, that’s your business. Like I give a fuck.’

  ‘What does this prove?’ Abbey said firmly. ‘He could be getting high and killing people, it’s possible to do both.’

  ‘Killing people!’ Sol gasped. ‘Just what the fuck are you people into here?’

  James crouched. ‘Somebody was murdered tonight, Sol. Teri is still missing and you keep vanishing. Do you see our dilemma?’

  Sol glanced around looking for support where there was none. ‘Why are you hassling me?’ he moaned. ‘Where’s that big South African, I don’t see him anywhere. Go and bother that guy.’

  As if on cue Sebastian came striding along the beach, buried beneath the tattered grey pinstripe he’d refused to change. Around the fire, the girl continued to appear vacant and Oli had turned a pale shade of green, like he'd eaten something he shouldn’t have.

  ‘Where’s my mum?’ Eric said more urgently.

  ‘Sebastian,’ James began,’ you need to tell us where you’ve been.’

  Sebastian blinked in confusion. ‘For a walk,’ he said simply.

  ‘Convenient,’ Abbey grumbled. ‘Not much of a cover story.’

  ‘Why would I need a cover story?’

  James said, ‘Just tell us where you’ve been, Sebastian.’

  ‘Nobody’s kicking the shit out of this prick, I notice,’ Sol moaned. ‘Why don’t you let the freak loose
on this one, huh?’

  ‘Let the freak loose?’ Sebastian echoed. ‘What is it you suppose I’ve done?’

  Sol climbed gingerly to his feet massaging his side. ‘I’ve just been given a kicking for smoking some weed, man, no reason you should get off scot-free.’

  Sebastian looked bewildered. ‘Free from what exactly?’

  ‘Does that matter?’ Sol moaned. ‘Didn’t for me!’

  ‘You think you frighten me?’ Sebastian said calmly, convincingly. ‘Any of you, you think you can intimidate me? I’ve seen things you could never imagine.’

  ‘Is that right, Sebastian?’ James challenged. ‘Like what?’

  Sebastian swallowed hard. ‘The kind of things no one should ever have to see.’

  ‘A walk along the beach, Sebastian?’ said Abbey. ‘You can’t do better than that?’

  ‘I don’t have to. You asked me where I’ve been, I told you.’

  ‘For two hours?’

  ‘Two and a half actually. Couldn’t sleep.’

  The story was weak, there was no denying that, but that didn’t make it untrue. Another brutal headache was brewing between James’s eyes.

  ‘Somebody want to tell me what I’m accused of? Last I checked, walking along a beach isn’t a crime.’

  ‘Oh no?’ Anthony had reappeared and moved stealthily back amongst them. ‘And how about murder?’

  Sebastian’s eyes widened, his gaze wandering carefully.

  ‘Now doesn’t that look like a guilty face?’ said Anthony.

  Sebastian failed to defend himself. Instead he stood silently, apprehensively.

  ‘Nothing to say?’ Anthony urged.

  James didn’t know who that question was aimed at.

  The decreased number of survivors matched the South African’s quiet. Their spirit had taken a hit and nobody seemed to know what to do next. Gradually, quietly, the assembly began to disband, and like the Sebastian interrogation, the crackling fire was abandoned.

  James noticed Abbey walk to the water’s edge, her shoulders visibly shuddering. He went to her, wrapped her in his arms. She hugged back fiercely. For what seemed like an eternity they stood like this, unmoving, James whispering assurances, Abbey accepting them, not believing them. Further up the beach, Eric had vanished.